#( both of us owing replies and yet

[airxn]

💥 i think there should be a symbol for "we're mutuals and we write and ship, i just want attention" cus i'd send that one sO hard ohm ygo d-

symbols for the mun!

there should there should bc i would be sending it to u every thirty minutes for 15 years teehee hoohoo

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: ghostface, yandere, prank calls, threats, implied kidnapping, implied noncon

♡ FEM reader

It was already past midnight. And you, despite your half-mast eyes, were still lying stomach-down, sprawled out on the couch, too lazy to get up.

Some dumb show about some dumb dysfunctional family was playing low on the TV in front of you, not much to your interest, or at least not enough to keep you awake, but enough to act as white noise you didn’t mind letting lull you to sleep.

You were beginning to drool on your pillow, struggling with the indecision of getting up to brush your teeth and the more tempting, pleasant thought of simply sleeping right there, without the chores of getting ready for bed.

Your arm was mindlessly dangling towards the ground where the remote had slipped some time ago, along with your phone, that suddenly, just when it looked like you were about to fully nod off, started to ring.

Startled awake, you flinched at the sheer chimes buzzing loudly beneath you, like an alarm clock was going off. However, by the looks of the pitch-black darkness outside the window, it was visibly still the middle of the night.

You groaned then, both out of ire and a bit of relief—happy you could fall asleep again without needing to worry, yet reluctant to have to speak to someone for much of the same reason. 

Deliberating it for a small moment, you thought it might be a friend with some silly emergency and were tempted to ignore it before guilt got in the way—where with a pinch between your brows and a big yawn, you swiped to answer it. Stating under your breath that whoever it was owed you big time.

Clicking speakerphone, you had your eyes still fully closed while croaking out a groggy and slightly bothered, “Hello?”

You expected to hear drunken cries and the muted thumps of base and beat and club chatter or something like it—all in all, at least a whiney drunken voice belonging to a friend—but none of the sort was at the other end of the line.

“Hello,” a dark voice replied—audibly altered by a scrambler.

It startled you—enough to make your eyes open at least—still, you didn’t really have the sensibility to think too much of it just yet.

“Who’s this?” you asked.

“Who’s this?” he echoed back, making your brows further scrunch. 

“You’re the one calling?” you said in askance, dragging your head from the pillow to peek down at the phone on the floor, viewing the caller ID, which gave you next to nothing aside from letting you know that your caller was unknown.

“You tell me your name, and I’ll tell you mine,” he offered then, and your suspicions of it being a prank call only solidified.

And although the corner of your mouth quirked upward by the sentiment, it was unfortunately just a bit too late for you to be in the mood.

“I’m a little too sleepy for pranks right now—sorry. Try again tomorrow, bye,” you managed to muster through a yawn, hanging up and thinking that was the end of it.

Only, it didn’t take long for the phone to ring again.

“Why don’t you wanna talk to me?” the same voice asked through the phone, now a little whiney, though obviously playing it up.

The thought of simply hanging up again crossed your mind, but at the same time, you didn’t really see the harm in talking for a bit. You were awake now anyway, and you couldn't exactly deny being a little intrigued. After all, given that he was using a voice scrambler, it wasn’t so unlikely that it was someone you knew.

And with that, you figured you’d humor them, if only for a little while before getting up and brushing your teeth. And so, you ask, “Didn’t your mama ever tell you not to talk to strangers?”

And it answered, “No~” still in that very altered voice that made it impossible to place.

“Well, my mother taught me better,” you joked with a tiny laugh, thinking the entire thing was kind of exciting now that you were sobering up.

Not knowing exactly who was on the other end made you feel all giddy, head spinning over who it might be, whether it was a coworker or friend, or someone else entirely. You couldn't quite figure out who would bother to do such a thing in the dead of night���to you, of all people.

“Oh, come on, aren’t you tired of being a goody-two-shoes?” he flirted back, and you giggled a little louder while picking the phone up from the floor, now keeping it close to your chest as if you were a teenager whispering naughty things to your boyfriend in the dead of night so that your parents wouldn't hear.

“Fine then, Mr. Stranger~” you say slowly and coyly, rolling over onto your back before continuing. “What did you wanna talk to me about?” 

A dark chuckle came back through the phone, making your stomach purr in turn before he spoke again, “What are you wearing?”

You paused at that, cheeks heating with teeth sinking deep into your lip. Looking down at your drab pajamas, you didn’t exactly feel inclined to be truthful. “Hm…”

Pondering for a moment, you smile.

“Sexy lingerie~” you lie through your teeth, trying hard to keep from laughing as you put on your best mock-sultry voice.

“I don’t like liars,” the man answered. “I know you’re in your jammies.”

You pouted then. “Okay, fine—you caught me.” 

“Still sexy, though,” he added, making you giggle again.

“And you’re a little creepy, Mr. Stranger. You aren't stalking me, are you?” you ask in a tease, biting your lip with a smile while looking at the phone, eager for his reply.

Only his answer isn't very nice. “You’re the one begging for it, whoring around with an unknown man on the phone, slut.”

Your eyes widened, skin taken by a cold rush. In the same way you'd react when spotting a mosquito on your arm, you abruptly slapped the phone and hung up.

His voice had changed, turned darker, and immediately the whole conversation didn’t feel very fun anymore. Suddenly sour, it left a foul taste in your mouth that made you feel all in all rather stupid for even having amused it in the first place.

But once again… it only took a few seconds for the phone to ring a third time. 

“Don’t hang up on me,” the same voice demanded.

And while both fed up and put off, you sighed with a huff, voice sharp, asking him, “What do you want?”

“Don't be like that. I told you already, I only want to know your name~” he said, his playful tone of voice back again—only this time, you weren’t at all charmed by it anymore.

“Why do you want to know my name?” you bit out sourly. Unsure why you were still on the phone, and even more unsure why you even bothered picking up yet again at all.

“Well… ‘cause…” he began slowly with a pause, and your brows only sunk lower with his antics, finding yourself properly pissed-off until he uttered the next line, only now in a deeply unsettling whisper. “I want to know who I’m looking at.”

You went cold, and colder than cold with a chill running sharply down your spine. 

Sitting up slowly, eyes alert, you held the phone tightly in your grip while looking at all the windows, viewing the darkness outside.

“Oh, you look cute when you’re scared~” he continued, making you jump to your feet and stomp over to the first window, frantically drawing the curtains one after the other until none remained.

“Quit calling,” you finished, hanging up for what you really wished would be the last time.

However, seconds later, the phone rang again despite your wish. But this time, you let it ring, deliberating whether you ought to call the police or simply ignore it until it stopped. 

You went to check if the outer door was locked before padding back to the couch, listening to the phone finish ringing before beginning anew.

You figured he’d stop after a while, but minutes passed without a break until you finally picked up, not out of fear, but anger.

“I told you not to hang up on me!” he yelled, and you snarled in turn.

“Listen, asshole-”

“No, you listen, you stupid bitch—” he interrupted. “If you hang up on me again, I’ll wring your little neck ‘til your eyes pop out of your skull!”

You gaped at his threats but weren’t about to let yourself be bullied either. “If you don’t stop calling, the next call will be to the police!”

“Tch—” he scoffed before laughter spilled through the speaker. Crackling harshly through the scrambler, louder and louder until it stopped with the next utterance, “Stupid pigs won’t make it in time.”

There was a crash of glass somewhere upstairs, and you flinched while withholding a scream. 

Fear hit you like a flash, robbing you of breath before your instinct took you towards the door. 

Rushing, wide-eyed and goosefleshed, you swallowed thickly while trying to think. With your phone gripped tightly in one hand, you tried pushing in the numbers to the police—while at the same time struggling with the lock to the door, shaking the knob with no fruition until finally pushing it open.

You cast a glance over your shoulder, viewing the empty house that now suddenly seemed much darker than before and the eerie staircase leading up to the earlier crash—ears going deaf with the rush of blood in your head, pumping thick from the panicked beating of your heart. 

As you turn around again, you hear shoes coming thundering down the stairs as you take a rushed step without yet facing forward. You had your mind set on running to the neighbors, only, instead of bursting out into the open street, you were sent backwards into the house again, stumbling until you hit the floor with a wince. 

Your phone slipped from your hand, not only crashing to the ground as hard as you did but smashing into a broken mess as well—now utterly useless.

A dark-cloaked figure stood at the threshold, taking up the entire frame. At the same time, there's a tall presence behind you clad in the exact same way. Screaming white mask and all.

“Silly bitch,” the one in front said nonchalantly, stepping inside—shoulders broad and boots heavy.

The one behind laughed, bringing forth a large knife that made your life flash vividly before your very eyes.

“Didn’t your mama ever tell you not to let strangers inside the house?”

♡ BNHA – Kiri-Baku, Shiga-Dabi, Dabi-Hawks, Kiri-Denki, Shin-Baku ♡ JJK – Suku-Jaku, Suku-Go, Sato-Sugu, Ken-Hito ♡ HQ – KuroTsuki, KuroLev, IwaKyo, Miya twins, ♡ BLLK – NagiReo, RinSae, RyuSae

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[nosyp]

Care For Another Game?

Warning = smut🔞, gambling(?), destroying food, small spoilers, dubious consent

Pairing = Salesman (squid game) x fem! reader

Summary = A simple game of ddakji turns into something much more when he shows up at your door with a proposition. The stakes are higher, and this time, it’s not just about winning. Now it’s about control and desire.

Word count = 2.8k

Part 2

A/N = I'm genuinely so horny for this man please forgive me

“Excuse me, ma’am, would you like to play ddakji?” 

You turned to face the voice, unsure if it was meant for you or someone else. A man stood just a few feet away, a small, polite smile on his face. You were sitting on the bench in the subway, waiting to catch the next one. 

“M-me?” you muttered out.

“Yes.” he replied, very quickly. Damn, he’s so certain. How could I possibly reject it?

“Ehh? Sure I guess…” you mumbled, your words almost inaudible.

“Excellent,” he said, his smile widening just a fraction. He stepped closer, lowering himself to your level. Up close, you noticed how sharp his features were, it was like he was carved out so carefully. His suit didn’t even have a single wrinkle, and his posture was impossibly composed, as if he was used to winning in life.

He then knelt on the dusty subway floor and placed two folded paper squares in front of you. “The rules are simple,” he explained. “You use your tile to flip mine. If you succeed, you win.” You started to roll your eyes as he was explaining the preface of the game… well that was until he held up the stack of cash. Oh you’re not losing now.

“And if I lose?” you asked cautiously.

“Then…” His eyes flickered with something you couldn’t quite name. “You owe me.”

You blinked, your unease growing. “Owe you what?”

“Let’s not worry about that just yet.” His voice was calm, almost reassuring, but it only made you more aware of the trap you might be stepping into.

Your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your coat. You were unsure whether to back out now or follow through.

“Well?” he prompted, tilting his head slightly. “Which colour do you want?”

“Red please.” you responded, evoking a small smile from him.

You hesitated, then picked up one of the paper tiles. Its edges were surprisingly crisp, as though it had been folded just moments ago. Taking a deep breath, you crouched down to face him.

“Okay,” you said, steadying your hand. “Let’s do this.”

You both immediately got up and started playing. He seemed like an innocent guy from the outside but in the game, he seemed like a completely different person. The force he put into flipping the stupid tiles was so strong you swore you heard the ground shake beneath you.

Somehow, miraculously, you won most of the rounds and earned 500k won. You’d expect him to be a bit better if he was spending a bunch of time running around asking to play. You saw him a few days prior doing the same thing he did with you with other people. Though, they didn’t win much, mostly slaps to the face.

“Thank you,” you say, holding the stack of cash in both of your hands. 

He still had that stupid smile plastered on his face. It never disappeared. How annoying.

“Mm. You’re welcome.” he responds, his face quickly darkening. And he walked away, without saying anything else. He also left the red paper tile with you.

With a satisfied hum, you skipped your way into the arriving subway. 

—

Somehow, that didn’t end up being your last meeting with him.

A week later, you were strolling through the park, enjoying the rare peaceful silence. The chirping of birds and the rustling of leaves accompanied the sounds, but something disrupted the serene atmosphere. A sharp, rhythmic sound.

It was… stomping? And yelling? What the fuck?

Curious, you followed the noise, rounding a corner near the fountain. There, in the middle of an open patch of grass, stood the man from the subway—the Ddakji guy. He was dressed just as sharply as before, though his once-pristine shoes were now caked with crumbs.

You froze, watching in disbelief as he stomped repeatedly on a pile of bread scattered on the ground. It was like a massacre of carbs. He was literally stomping on it while screaming “this is your guys' fault” or some shit like that, in the middle of the park. Holy shit.

“What the hell?” you muttered under your breath while walking closer to him. 

He looked up, pausing mid-stomp as if he’d heard you. His eyes locked onto yours, and that familiar polite smile spread across his face.

“Ah,” he said, straightening his posture as if he hadn’t just been waging war on baked goods. “We meet again.”

You blinked, pointing at the corpses of the bread. “What… are you doing?”

He glanced down, brushing a speck of flour off his pants. “An experiment,” he said simply.

“An experiment?” you echoed, incredulous. “In what? Angering pigeons?”

He chuckled softly, stepping away from the pile. “You wouldn’t understand. But it’s good to see you again, ma’am.”

“Okay, no.” You held up a hand, as if to stop whatever strange explanation he was about to give. “First, why are you stepping on bread? Second, why are you here, in this park, at the exact same time as me?”

His smile didn’t falter, but something in his gaze shifted. It became more calculated, as though he was about to beat you up– okay maybe not literally. 

“Coincidence, perhaps,” he said, though the tone of his voice suggested otherwise. “Or maybe it’s fate.”

You took a step back, your instincts telling you that fate wasn’t the right answer. “You’re not stalking me, are you?”

“Stalking is such an ugly word.” He tilted his head, his expression almost amused. “Let’s just say… I find you interesting.”

Your stomach flipped, and not in a romantic way at all. “Right. Well, maybe don’t ‘find me’ again, okay?” you say, giving emphasis to the ‘find me’ with your two index and middle fingers on both hands.

He took a step closer, and you immediately regretted not leaving sooner. “I have a proposition,” he said smoothly, ignoring your obvious discomfort.

“Another game?” you guessed.

“Not quite.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out something that made your heart race—a single piece of folded paper. Ddakji.

“Nope, no way,” you said, backing away. “I’m not doing this again.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, his smile widening. “This time, the stakes are higher.”

Then you stopped. Halted in your position. “You really wanna try again after losing? You’ve got guts. Or maybe you’re just dumb. Who knows?”

He rolled his eyes at you and pulled out the same two tiles. 

“Oh! You’ve got another one,” you mentioned, reminding him of the night.

“Yea yea… let’s start,” he demanded.

To your surprise, you won again. Well, won most of the rounds. He seemed a bit frustrated at the outcome. 

“What? You upset?” you tease.

“...” 

He didn’t respond. 

You flipped the tile in your hands again, a smug grin plastered on your face. “You know, for someone who’s so insistent on playing, you’re really not that good at this.”

His jaw tightened, but the polite smile stayed in place. “Luck doesn’t last forever, ma’am.”

“Maybe not, but it sure seems to be holding up today,” you say while stuffing your winnings into your pocket. “Thanks for the cash, by the way. It’s not everyday someone bankrolls my coffee addiction.”

He didn’t respond right away, instead adjusting his cuffs with an almost mechanical precision. You could tell he was trying not to let your teasing get to him.

“So,” you continued, leaning against a nearby tree, “is this what you do for fun? Wander around challenging strangers to games you’re bad at?”

He glanced at you, his expression unreadable. “I wouldn’t say I’m bad.”

“Oh? The scoreboard says otherwise,” you shot back, gesturing to the imaginary tally in the air. “I’m up by, what, a hundred rounds?”

His smile faltered for the shortest moment, and you felt a spark of triumph. “You’re quite the character,” he said finally, his tone more measured.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you said, shrugging. “Anyway, thanks for the game. I’ll be sure to tell my friends about the weird guy in the park who hands out money for getting owned at ddakji.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “You won’t have to. They’ll find out for themselves.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He didn’t answer, instead stepping closer and plucking the tile from your hand with surprising speed. You blinked at the empty space where it had been.

“Hey! That’s mine!” you protested.

“Consider it a rematch token,” he said, tucking the tile neatly into his pocket. “When you’re ready to lose, find me.”

“Lose? You’re delusional,” you scoffed.

He gave you a slight bow, his polished demeanor back in full force. “Until next time, ma’am.”

And just like that, he turned and walked away, leaving you with a mix of irritation and amusement.

“Next time, I’m taking your shoes too!” you called after him.

He raised a hand in a lazy wave but didn’t look back.

You shook your head, letting out a breathy laugh. “What a weirdo.”

Still, as you walked back to your bench, you found yourself wondering if there really would be a next time. And if there was, you weren’t planning to lose.

—

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Three consecutive knocks at your door. You wondered who it was. You hesitated for a moment, eyeing the door warily. It was late, and you hadn’t been expecting anyone. You didn’t have many visitors… well, actually, you had no visitors, except for the occasional delivery or perhaps a neighbor. The knocks repeated again, a bit harsher this time.

"Who the hell is it?" you muttered under your breath before rising from the couch and moving cautiously towards the door. Then you peeked through the peephole, but the hallway was empty.

A chill ran down your spine, and for a moment, you considered not answering. Maybe it was just some mistake, or a knock meant for someone else. But then the thoughts of being too paranoid crept in, and you didn’t want to seem like an idiot ignoring a visitor.

You pulled the door open a bit, just enough to see who was there.

And behold, there he was—the ddakji guy. Of course. How the heck did he dodge the peephole? He’s quite tall.

His smile was as unnerving as always, that same polite grin he always wore that never failed to send a shiver through you. He was standing there, holding a small black briefcase in his right hand. His suit, crisp as always, was illuminated by the light, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something about his presence wasn’t exactly… safe. 

“Ah, I knew you were home,” he said, as if he’d known the entire time you were debating whether or not to open the door.

“Are you… stalking me?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, trying to maintain your composure despite the strange situation.

“Stalking is such a harsh word,” he said smoothly, giving his usual tilt of the head. “I still much prefer… coincidence… or fate,”

You crossed your arms, still not entirely convinced. “Fate? That sounds like a line you use on people before you scam them into some ridiculous deal.”

He chuckled lightly. “I assure you, no deals. Just a proposition.” He took a step closer, his presence suddenly more intimidating than before. “I’ve come to finish what we started.”

You frowned, the memory of your last meeting flashing through your mind. From the look on his face after you won the game, and the way he seemed so nonchalant about everything.

“I’m pretty sure I already finished it,” you shot back, trying to sound unaffected. “I won. You lost. End of story.”

He didn’t seem fazed by your resistance. “Maybe. But I don’t think it’s over just yet. You see, I have another game in mind. One you might find… more interesting.”

You were about to shut the door, but then he grabbed hold of the side to stop you.

“Just wait a second,” he said, his strength much overpowering yours.

What the hell was this guy’s deal?

You frowned, the memory of your last meeting flashing through your mind. From the look on his face after you won the game, and the way he seemed so nonchalant about everything. But now... there was something in his eyes. Something darker. And it made your breath catch in your throat.

"How many times do I have to say it?I’m pretty sure I already finished it," you shot back, trying to sound as mean as possible to shoo him away, but you couldn’t silence the sound of your heart pounding loudly in your chest. "I won. You lost. End of story."

He didn’t seem fazed by your resistance. In fact, his smile only widened, an almost predatory glint in his eyes.

"Maybe. But I don’t think it’s over just yet. You see, I have another game in mind. One you might find… much more interesting."

Your breath hitched as he stepped closer. Too close. The air around you suddenly felt thick and heavy. Before you could react, he reached up, his fingers lightly brushing against your arm as he held the door open just a little wider, his grip surprisingly strong.

“Just wait a second,” he said in that low, smooth voice, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "This time, there’s no escape."

You swallowed hard, a mix of confusion and arousal swirling inside you. Why was he doing this? Why were you still standing there? Why was your body betraying you, craving something you couldn’t quite put into words?

You tried to back away, but he was already pressing himself into the doorway, the scent of his cologne filling your senses. He leaned in closer, so close you could feel the heat radiating off his body. His hand reached up, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering a little too long.

“I told you,” he whispered, his voice low and rough now. “I don’t lose.”

Before you could say anything, he closed the distance completely and pressed his lips into yours. It was fierce, demanding, his hands on your waist pulling you closer, the pressure of his body sending shockwaves through you. You gasped into the kiss, feeling the heat intensify as he deepened it, his tongue sweeping into your mouth.

Your hands, on instinct, found their way to his chest, but he was already guiding you back into your apartment, the door falling closed behind him with a soft thud. You barely noticed it as your body reacted to him. Instinctively, your hands were pulling him closer, your legs weak with need.

He paused only for a moment, pulling back just enough to look at you. The lust in his eyes made your pulse race. “You wanted a challenge, right?” he said, his voice husky. “Let’s see how far you’re willing to go now.”

And then, with a swift motion, he pushed you back against the wall, and his hands started to explore your body, touching every part of you. You let out a breathless laugh, caught between the strange tension and the undeniable pull between you two. You felt the weight of him press against you, the tent unmistakable in his pants.

“I think you’ve already won,” you said, breathless, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Is that so?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement. He pulled back slightly, giving you a look that sent a jolt of desire straight to your core. “Then let’s see if you’re ready to finish this game.”

His lips gradually moved to your neck, kissing and biting softly as his hands slid beneath your clothes, feeling the smoothness of your skin. Every touch made you shiver, every kiss igniting a fire within you. You gasped as his hands worked their way down, finding the heat between your legs, making you ache for him even more.

Without another word, he slowly undid your clothing, his movements deliberate and controlled, yet full of hunger. His lips trailed down your body, each touch, each caress, sending you into a spiral. By the time his hands found their way to your most sensitive spots, you were already a mess, your body aching for more.

“Do you want this?” he asked, his voice dark and velvety, as he hovered above you, his fingers teasing just at the edge of what you needed. You nodded, too far gone to hold back any longer.

"Then let's finish what we started," he says. 

The game is much simpler now. The only rule being… the first to cum loses.

[harrysfolklore]

grapes - hs

summary: harry won’t let his girlfriend break her new years tradition

folkie radio: i couldn’t let the year end without posting one last harry fic! i really hope 2025 brings us so much content (including hs4!!) happy new year 💘

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

The party was in full swing at Jeff and Glenne's house, the air buzzing with anticipation as midnight drew closer. Music thumped through the speakers, and everywhere you looked, people were laughing, dancing, and celebrating the final moments of the year. You were nestled against Harry's side on one of the plush sofas, his arm draped casually around your shoulders.

"You okay, love?" Harry asked, noticing you checking your phone for the time again. "You seem a bit distracted."

You gave him a small smile, fiddling with the sequins on your dress. "Yeah, I just... it's silly, really."

"Tell me," he encouraged, turning to face you properly. His green eyes were soft and curious in the dim party lighting.

"Well, it's this tradition I have. Every New Year's at midnight, I eat twelve grapes - one for each chime of midnight. It's supposed to bring good luck for each month of the new year. My grandma started it when I was little, and I've done it every year since."

Understanding dawned on Harry's face. "And we haven't got any grapes here."

You nodded, trying to hide your disappointment. "Like I said, it's silly. It's just... it would be the first year I haven't done it.”

Harry glanced at his watch - 11:40 PM - then pressed a quick kiss to your forehead. "Give me fifteen minutes."

Before you could ask what he was planning, he was up and weaving through the crowd. You watched him stop to say something to Jeff, who nodded and pointed toward the kitchen.

Ten minutes passed, then fifteen. People were starting to gather around the TV for the countdown, champagne flutes in hand. You tried not to feel too disappointed, telling yourself it was just a tradition, just some grapes.

At 11:57, you felt a familiar hand on your shoulder. Harry was slightly out of breath, his curls messier than before, but he was grinning triumphantly. In his hand was a small bowl filled with exactly twelve grapes.

"Harry," you gasped, "how did you-"

"Let's just say I now owe Jeff's neighbor a very expensive bottle of wine," he chuckled, settling back beside you. "Apparently, she's the only person in Beverly Hills who keeps fresh fruit in the house on New Year's Eve."

You felt tears pricking at your eyes as you took the bowl from him. "You went door-to-door looking for grapes?"

"Course I did," he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Couldn't let you break your tradition, could I?"

The countdown started, people shouting in unison. "TEN! NINE!"

You quickly counted the grapes - exactly twelve.

"EIGHT! SEVEN!"

Harry pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"SIX! FIVE! FOUR!"

You readied your first grape, heart full of love for the man beside you.

"THREE! TWO! ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

As cheers erupted around you, you started eating the grapes, one by one, just as you had every year since childhood. Harry watched you with amused affection, waiting patiently for you to finish before pulling you in for your New Year's kiss.

"Happy New Year, love," he murmured against your lips.

"Happy New Year," you replied, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Thank you for this. For understanding how much it meant to me."

He smiled, that soft, private smile that was reserved just for you. "Your traditions are important to me because they're important to you. Even if it means running around the neighborhood at midnight looking for grapes."

You laughed, resting your forehead against his. "I think this might be my favorite New Year's tradition yet."

"What, the grapes or the kiss?"

"Both," you decided. "Definitely both."

[nerdygirlramblings]

these ancient gods won't leave me be...

The following day, you try to ignore the new temporary members of your village and continue about your routine. Early mornings are when the most vulnerable in the village need the most help, so you bring water and fresh bread to Edda's house and make sure Danr is moving around without impediment. Those are followed by a stop at Idunna's to check on her and her baby. The position as seer was an empty title when first bestowed on you, yet you made it mean something.

Though you had been the only penitent at the shrines when they were first erected, many members of the village now place offerings on the altars. Yet you still feel a compulsion to maintain them yourself. There are some bits of leaf debris you pull from the altar of the god of death and some dirt you wipe from Gaz's table. Your routine ends with prayers over each altar, thanking the four ancient gods for the blessings they've bestowed on your people. As you finish, you notice a presence looming at your back. "Ya don't need ta pray ta us," a voice rumbles in your ear.

Your heart thunders in your chest, but you school your features as you turn to see the masked man from yesterday, the man who gave the name Sigmundr to the elders but whom you know to be Si.

"Why should I not pray to those who saved us, sir?" you ask, seeing the others, with Elder Stigr, coming quickly to you both.

Sigmundr Si steps closer and pitches his voice so low you knew no one else would not be able to hear it. "Your words are not what we want." A light touch ghosts down your arm.

Before you can respond, Stigr calls out, "There you are Sigmundr. Found her yourself , I see," as he and the others approach. Sigmundr Si puts space between you.

The bearded one who called himself Verth, whom you are sure is Jon, looks to you and asks, "Do you pray daily?"

You drop his gaze and reply, "Yes, sir. Jon and the others blessed us. Surely that is deserving of my thanks."

Verth Jon turns to Stigr and asks if the older man prayed daily. Keeping your eyes on the ground means no one sees you bite your lip to keep the grimace off your face. Despite the change in how others acted towards the ancient gods, the Elders still treated their intercession as expectation rather than blessing. The man splutters a response you do not hear, though you cannot miss the veiled threat when Sigmundr Si says, "Your seer is wise in recognizing how quickly a god's blessing could turn to wrath. Perhaps those in charge of overseeing this village should follow the counsel of the one who speaks with the gods."

Stigr's expression wars between outrage and fear, but he simply replies, "Perhaps we should be doing a good many things about these gods." He looks at you and says, "Our visitors wanted to speak with you about the ancient gods to whom we owe our lives. I know you will honor your people and your, er our, gods with your knowledge." You can hear the command in his voice as he nods at you all and takes his leave.

more

series masterlist | main masterlist

[jlheon]

౨ৎ — who ru ? (lhs)

pairing. situationship! lee heeseung x fem! reader synopsis. enha try to figure you out genre. fluff & est. relationship at end wc. 2069 notes. ft. enhypen library.

none of heeseung’s members knew your name. 

which was ironic since they saw you nearly every day off they had. usually passing by heeseung’s slightly ajar door and taking a double take after seeing a female figure, then realizing it's just you, and wondering if you were heeseung's girl-friend or girlfriend.

they had grown used to your presence in the almost six months of you constantly around their home. yet nobody could ever figure out your name and who you were. 

despite running into you in the dorms multiple times none of the six had ever muttered anything more than a mere ‘hi’ or ‘sorry’ while passing. 

they always saw you around the dorms at least two times a week. though never once did they recall seeing you enter or leave. their eldest never brought you up, feeding into the idea you were some imaginary person.

heeseung was good at everything, including sneaking you in and out.

all of them being scared to say anything to you. acting like your identity was classified when they could just ask heeseung or you who you were.

but of course, riki loved to make anything and everything into a competition. 

after betting with his hyungs’ on who could figure out your name first, he spotted you in the house, residing in heeseung’s lap while he did some work on his computer. face buried in his neck while he typed away. 

riki camped out in the bathroom, with the door open, pretending to be cleaning the mirror. scrubbing the same corner repeatedly for almost ten minutes, waiting for you to use the bathroom. surely you would need to get up soon.

when he concluded that he couldn’t clean the mirror forever, he picked up his toothbrush and brushed his teeth. 

after brushing his teeth for a solid three minutes his plan was finally set into action. 

“hi riki,” you knocked on the open door. “how long do you need to brush your teeth for?”

“howdoyouknowmyname-” he spit out the toothpaste in shock. 

“riki, i’m here all the time,” you replied. “and you’re also a famous idol.”

“oh yeah..” he wiped his face with a towel from the counter. “why don’t i know your name though.”

“you’ve never asked,” you shrugged your shoulders at the younger boy covered in toothpaste. “do you mind if i wash my face, i think you’ve brushed your teeth thoroughly enough.”

“yeah of course,” riki set his toothbrush back in its holder and moved towards the door.

“you missed a spot by the way,” pointing to your chin to show where the toothpaste was left on him, lightly shutting the door.

riki’s plan had failed. 

the next to try and talk to you was jake.

he was confident that he could get your name out if you. maybe he’d even be good enough to figure out if you were heeseung’s girlfriend or not.

it was the day after riki had run into you in the bathroom. since it was their break before the long comeback season jake knew that you would probably be sleeping over. giving him the perfect opportunity to ask heeseung and you if you both wanted to eat ramen with him.

once the time on his phone read 11:15 he knocked on heeseung’s door.

“come in,”

“hi,” jake opened the door. “i was wondering if you wanted ramen, her too..”

this was perfect. surely heeseung would call you by name when he asked if you were hungry. everyone would owe him dinner for the week.

you and heeseung were on his bed. you cuddled up into his side while you both watched tiktoks on his phone. 

“baby are you hungry?” heeseung leaned down next to your ear. 

baby was not your name. jake frowned.

“no i’m okay hee,” you mumbled. “you can go eat though.”

he kissed your forehead before getting up from his bed to follow jake to the kitchen. 

jake’s plan had also failed, but the fact heeseung had called you a pet name gave him some idea that you weren't just a friend.

the uprise of interactions with the members confused you. they went from running away from you and avoiding looking at you every time you were within six feet of them to constantly seeking you and heeseung out. though it relieved you in a way since you were convinced that heeseung had strictly told them to act as if you didn't exist in the months you had spent together.

you and heeseung were in fact not an item, even though you both wished you were. you've known him since his nerdy bowl cut days in middle school, you weren't close before but after running into you years later that changed.

you knew that he had become an idol, it was hard not to notice when you saw his face on ads. never listening to his group but being able to recognize him if you were asked.

one day when you were on shift, at your then job as a barista at a small place. you had recognized him as you took his order. you didn't want to sound like an obsessed fan if he didn't remember you, so you simply bit your tongue the entire time. he had decided to tip you for bringing him his drink, which made you even more on edge when he left a stray napkin on his table with his number.

after that incident it was clear he recognized you from school, which was more worrying than relieving as he started to show up to your work even more.

eventually, his visiting you at work was not ideal anymore as he stuck out like a sore thumb with how tall he was paired with the black mask and sunglasses he never dared to take off.

alas, he had asked you to hangout somewhere else. now you no longer worked at that cafe and spent all of your free time off from classes being snuck into a kpop boy-group dorm to hang out with a boy who acted like your boyfriend but wasn't. awesome!

after your first encounters with riki and jake everyone followed after.

jay came in to ask if you had any allergies because he was making some lunch, again heeseung addressed you as anything but your real name.

two days later sunoo had sat down next to you on the living room couch and offered you a face mask. you nodded and you guys spent an hour together as heeseung and jay were gone filming for a variety show. right as sunoo was finally confident you guys were casual enough to ask you for your name heeseung walked in.

you jumped up from the couch making your way over and throwing yourself at him. holding onto him like a koala when he picked you up. he greeted sunoo, and brought you all the way to his room. shutting the door behind him.

you didn’t even get the chance to thank sunoo for hanging out with you.

within the same hour jungwon had barged into heeseung’s room, the door banging against the wall. 

“jungwon what the hell!” heeseung scolded, though keeping his voice at a whisper. “don’t you know to knock?”

“this is me exercising my leader privileges,” jungwon crossed his arms and fixed his posture.

“you could have woken her up..” heeseung stroked your hair, as you laid passed out on his chest.

“woken who up?” jungwon said mischievously, heeseung had to say your name now. 

“don’t act dumb, you can literally see her sleeping.” heeseung deadpanned. 

you started to shuffle in your sleep, beginning to wake up. 

“hee?” you grumbled. 

“it’s nothing, baby,” he answered. “just go back to sleep.”

heeseung sent jungwon a glare, shooing him out of the room. so much privacy for having only single room.

right when you thought it was over, it was finally sunghoon’s turn to figure you out. he contemplated creating a list of names that you kind of looked like and just shouting them throughout the house until you answered to one.

but after hearing jungwon explain how heeseung looked like he was about to chase him out of the dorm onto the street after he woke you up, sunghoon decided against his original idea.

he was sat on his bed for almost an hour thinking about what he could do. 

he concluded he should just be straightforward and ask you already. why hadn’t anyone else just asked you?

he let out a horrendous evil laugh that sunoo had given him a weird look for as sunghoon thought about how his plan was foolproof. he was about to be picking dinner every night for everyone.

sunghoon created a list in his head from what he gathered from all the other boys' failed attempts :

knock LIGHTLY on the door

make sure he is not interrupting anything

ask you NOT heeseung

get that free dinner

he waited for everyone to get to their rooms after dinner to make his way to the eldest’s room. you surely couldn’t have possibly fallen asleep yet as the sun had only just set. using his right hand, he softly knocked on the door. heeseung opened the door enough to show you sitting at his desk. 

“hoon?” heeseung questioned.

“i have a question.” sunghoon said firmly, keeping his chin up high, making himself look cocky in the process.

“shoot,” heeseung replied dryly, yawning at the end of his sentence.

“not for you,” sunghoon recalled the list floating around in his head, he pointed at you. “for her.”

overhearing their exchange, you took your attention away from the game you were playing on heeseung’s computer and spun the chair towards sunghoon. heeseung had no choice but to move aside and let the boy in as you had already taken note of his presence. 

“what’s your name? oh, and are you heeseung’s girlfriend?” he smiled, fist-bumping himself in his head as he finally did what the others couldn’t.

“i’m ____,” you grinned, finally happy someone had asked you directly like you and heeseung were hoping for. “i don’t know about the girlfriend part though.”

“____ i swear i was just about to talk to you about that soon-”

“i’m kidding hee!” you giggled. “i don’t understand why it took you guys so long, i’m always here.”

“i don’t know either,” heeseung agreed.  

“yeah right. you strictly told us not to look at her the first time jake caught her inside the dorm,” jay said as he walked into the room. 

one by one the rest of the group filtered into the room. sunghoon gives a whole speech about how he is truly the smartest and the first thing he wants for dinner is steak. which was nothing different from the usual but he was happy that he got to decide. the whole group talked for a few hours in heeseung’s bedroom.

once heeseung saw you yawn he quickly got up and ushered all the guys to get out as you were tired. while he was busy forcing riki to leave you collapsed on his bed and waited for him to join you.

“so girlfriend huh?” you teased as he climbed into the empty spot next to you. 

he scratched the back of his head with a nervous laugh before turning off the lamp on his bedside table. when the lights were off and you could barely make out each other's faces in the dark he spoke up.

“can i be your boyfriend?” he asked, his voice dripping with gentleness. he snuck an arm under your head and pulled you towards his chest.

“i mean i guess so,” you joked, causing heeseung to tickle your sides. 

you squirmed in his grip trying to bite him until he finally gave it a rest. 

you tilted your head up towards his trying to find his lips to give him a short kiss. ultimately missing due to the darkness and kissing his chin instead. the both of you giggled. heeseung then used his free hand to trace around your face to find your lips, bringing his head down to finally connect your lips to his.

the last thing you remembered before drifting off was the sound of heeseung lulling you to sleep with a song he had been working on for their upcoming album.

[yuujiologyy]

thinking about collecting debt from gi-hun another way.

the mans hair was a mused sweaty mess with some stray pieces sticking to his forehead. gi-huns chest heaved, hungry for air hoping to clear his mind. it felt his senses went haywire, he was feeling all the wrong emotions!

and unmistakably there’s a tent in his pants, he’s hard.

“masochist bitch gi-hun likes it rough, huh?” you crowded cover him in the small bathroom. gi-hun attempted to scoot away but his back hit the wall with a thud.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about…” he looked away not daring to look in your eyes, he could practically see the lust spilling from them.

the air was thick around the both of you, making his head feel stuffed with cotton. that had to be why gi-hun didn’t feel scared, he felt aroused.

“then whats this guy doing awake, hmm?” you leaned into his personal space, giving his cock a hard squeeze. eliciting the most delectable mewl to slip from his lips.

“look at you… all hot n' bothered from getting a little roughed up. is this what you wanted gi-hun? to be put in your place like this?”

he whimpered and shook his head pathetically yet he couldn’t muster the words to deny your claims.

"it's alright, i know just what to do with sluts like you.”

---

"mmph-, you can't suddenly go that deep, sir, you’ll ruin me–!”

gi-huns face contorted into bliss as he came for the umpteenth time adding to the mess of bodily fluids coating both your bodies. your pace on his hole was unrelenting, obvious that you we're using him to chase your own release.

"y'know, the term 'punishment' isn't supposed to mean you enjoy it.' you sighed, rubbing a hand over your head. "what to do with a slut like you.."

"m' s-sorry, sorry sir!" gi-huns nails dug into your biceps, the only thing anchoring him from falling into a subspace even though it was probably too late to worry about that. from their perch on your shoulders, gi-huns legs shook vehemently.

you placed a hand on gi-huns stomach, almost cumming from the feeling of your cock bulging his stomach. "fuck baby, with such a slutty body like this you could make back the money you owe me in a few days."

"but do i really want to share you?" you faked contemplation before grabbing gi-huns face in your hand. his cheeks squished together, pursing his lips. "tell me gi-hun," you leaned in, barely an inch away from his lips. "do you want to be everyones slut?"

he made a broken gurgle sound in his throat in reply, eyes glazed over and unfocused. he was too fucked out to reply. how adorable.

"well good thing you have me to make the choice for you." you bit down on the junction between his neck and shoulder as a way to stake your claim on the man. "from this day onward, you're my bitch till you pay off what you owe me. it's a pleasure to be working with you, gi-hun."

-

[guksfairy]

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹LATE NIGHT KOO 23:29 `✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

in which Jungkook tells you about a thing he used to do as a kid

notes: I learned abt this bc my bias talked abt it once and I’ve not stopped thinking abt it lol

Enjoy !

wc: 598

The tv displays funny acts of the yellow sponge and his pink star friend as you and Jungkook laughed every now and then at their shenanigans. It was a Friday night and neither one of you felt like going out with your friends so you packed an overnight bag and headed to your boyfriend’s house for a nice evening.

Jungkook, earlier in the day, had bought a ton of different ramen packs that he thought you’d both enjoy. You had scolded him saying that it was a waste of money and in return he replied I’m not wasting if I’m spending it on you.

“Love can you get the water,” Jungkook yells from the living room, lowering the volume for dinner.

You turn around to the boiling water and…you’re not sure why you did it. Or how it happened.

You’re not dense. You know that the handle of a pot can be hot when there’s boiling water inside of it.

Yet you completely skip over the oven mitt Jungkook left beside it and went directly to grab the handle, burning yourself in the process.

“Ow!” in an instant, Jungkook is back inside the kitchen watching you flick your hand back and forth as a reaction to the heat.

“Touch your ears!”

“What?” you stare at your boyfriend when he simply repeats it again.

“Touch your ears,” this time he’s calm and walking towards you as you do as he says. Your hand doesn’t burn as much as it did a moment ago but you still grab both of your ears gently, rubbing the skin.

Jungkook walks past you and takes the oven mitt to remove the pot from the stove. He places it on the trivet and turns back to you, who is still doing the same action.

He internally coos at you and moves your hands back down.

“Are you okay?” you nod and his worry is put at ease, “You don’t need any ice?” You shake your head.

“Why’d you tell me to touch my ears?” You giggle at his funny request.

“What?”

“Just now, when you told me to touch my ears,” you recall.

“Oh it’s what my mom used to tell me when I was a kid. If I burned myself I should touch my ears,” your eyebrows furrow and he continues.

“Yeah apparently your ears are usually the coolest part of your body, so when you burn yourself you’re supposed to touch your ears to dissipate the heat,” he explains pouring the boiling water into the cup of noodles.

“Is that true?” you ask in awe. You’ve never personally heard of this in your lifetime.

“Probably not? But as a kid, I believed and trusted my mom and, maybe it was a placebo effect, but it always comforted me,” he says and you verbally coo.

“You’re so cute,” you pinch his cheek and he smiles with a playful eye roll as he removes your hand.

“Yeah yeah,”

“Are you gonna teach that to our kid when they’re growing up?” you ask without thinking. The flush in Jungkook’s cheeks visible and only then did you realize the topic you brought up.

“Our kid?” He shyly repeats.

“Yeah…our kid,” you state and he sniffles a small laugh, leaning forward to engulf your body in a warm hug.

“Sure, I’ll teach them the same,” he says and you giggle thinking about Jungkook telling your son or daughter to touch their ears like he did just now.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Words related to Love

to include in your next poem/story

Amative - relating to or indicative of love.

Aubade - a song or poem of lovers parting at dawn.

Besotted - strongly infatuated; (archaic) intoxicated; drunk. The earliest recorded usage of the related adjective besotted (in the late 16th century, from the past participle of the verb besot), however, described a state of intoxication due to amorousness rather than adult beverages; the still-current sense of besotted meaning “drunk” didn’t show up until the early 19th century.

Billet-doux - a love letter. In French, billet doux means “sweet letter.”

Calf-love - transitory love or affection often experienced by young people. The term puppy love is more commonly used than calf-love these days, perhaps owing to more people raising pets than cattle. But both refer to intense yet often fleeting affection experience by young—especially teenaged—couples.

Mellifluous - (of a voice or words) sweet or musical; pleasant to hear; often used to describe a lover's voice. Mellifluous comes from two Latin roots: the noun mel, meaning “honey,” and the verb fluere, meaning “to flow.” As it has for centuries, mellifluous typically and figuratively describes sound, and is often at the tip of the tongues of writers who proclaim that a voice or melody is smooth like molasses.

Opsigamy - marriage at an advanced age.

Osculate - to kiss. Osculate turns up mostly in humorous contexts as a fancy word meaning “to kiss.” The Latin noun for “kiss,” osculum, is also the diminutive of the Latin noun os, meaning “mouth.” Our adjective oral also comes from this root. Osculate (or its related noun osculation) might be used as an alternative to kiss to avoid repeating the latter word, or to bring an ironically clinical connotation to a common action for which slangier alternatives like smooch exist.

Sheep's eye - a shy longing and usually amorous glance—usually used in plural.

Venust - (archaic) beautiful, graceful, elegant.

If any of these words make their way into your poem/story, please tag me or leave a link in the replies. I'd love to read them!

More: Word Lists ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[gamblersdoll]

𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔!

a dragon-king! bakugou who finally meets someone who can take him— and maybe this marriage isnt such a bad thing. p in v, virgin! katsuki, (he gets a little bit excited) established relationship, breeding kink/ pregnancy mention.

katsuki hated the fact he was the new heir to the throne, his father passing away and that was truly a part of his sanity. mitsuki was the one who pushed marriage, he had to have a wife and sooner or later, children.

‘in what fucking planet do we live in to where we have to get married, hag?’ he remembers being a teenager and asking that question over and over and over again. just to be hit with a ‘our numbers are depleting, katsuki. we have to do these things in order to survive.’

he still rolls his eyes to the thought, but not now— since his old hag of a fucking mother is actually serious. she actually seeded out women who always wanted to be a woman on the throne, a woman who has seen the dragon queens’ son and wanted to risk it all for him. he despises it, women who throw themselves to a man.

“which one do you like the most, son?” she asks, smile lines on her aged face pulled by her fanged smile. “and hurry, we dont have all day.”

“none of them.” he deadpanned.

“boy— pick one or ill have your head!”

“and everyone wonders how dad died—“ he says, before receiving a smack to the back of his blonde head. “ow!”

“pick one, now.” she repeats, fixing herself and smiling to the line of girls presented to them. “alot of them are just lively.”

he sighs, crimson eyes wandering and his eyes match onto you, seeming like you truthfully didnt want to be here. “you,” he barks, a finger pointed at you and he nods up. “do you not want to be here or something?”

“to be picked by a dragon king who doesnt have anything better to do? absolutely not.” you snort, his eyebrow twitching and mistuki chuckles.

“perfect! we’ll set both of you up on a evening together.” she announces, a good bit of the women groaning and both of you lock eyes. didnt she just hear you werent here on your own will? katsuki scoffs, storming off and a hand dragging down his face.

“please excuse him, he’s not used to these things and doesnt know his duty as the new king.” she phrases, hands on your shoulders and a beaming smile. “youre going to love my son, im sure of it.”

“uh.. okay.” you say, at a lost for words.

you would love her son, huh? yeah, guess you could say that. his temper tantrums died down over the months— yet, one thing was weirder than anything,

that hes never once initiated sex. was he nervous? no, he’s never nervous to sit you on his lap when barking orders to servants or to behead a woman for questioning your intelligence and beauty, so it couldnt be he was nervous.

“bakugou, i have a—“

“woman, ive told you to call me katsuki.” he interrupted, a hand on a hip of yours and a deep grumble in his chest. the tribal jewelry jingled against his skin, a huff from him.

“katsuki, i need to ask you something.” you correct yourself, not daring to look to him— and yet he was staring deep into you. “why dont you ever.. why dont you ever try and touch me?”

he pauses himself at the question, a tight squeeze and then he looks away. “because you ain’ ready yet.” he solemnly says, a hand patting your hip. “ill let you know when.”

“you say that every time, though.” you reply, trying to press the matter further. “whats the real reason?”

he pinches the bridge of his nose, defensively irritated. “because you arent ready, woman.” he growls, agitation reaching his veins. “im not going to sit here and repeat my damn self.”

you get off of his lap, hearing a ‘sit back down’ from his lips and storm off. you werent hurt from his words, but you were questioning them. what in gods hell did he mean ‘you werent ready?’ youre a full fledged adult, not some child who couldnt understand why she couldnt go near the ocean.

maybe a few hours later, your king stumbling in and you both lock eyes. he opens his lips, eyes burning into yours. “im not here to fight with ya,” he says, a hand reaching onto your thigh and he huffs. “i just dont think youre physically prepared, nor mentally.”

“you arent my keeper, katsuki,” you remind, looking over to him and folding your arms in a groan. it was too late for this, especially after doing daily tasks as his wife. “you dont make that decision for me.”

“technically, i do. i dont have to fuck a woman.” he reminds as well.

“and what, do you not want pups?” you ask, his eyes flickering to you and his bouncing knee stops. “or is it im just not doing something for you?”

“not once have i ever said i didnt want children with you, y/n.” he growled, his gripping on your thigh tight. “i just said that you weren’t ready for that kind of thing, what apart of that dont you understand?”

“and how do you know what i am and am not ready for? is it because you havent slept with anyone before?”

he looks at you, straight faced.. you feel a chill go through your body, and you feel as if you had entirely fucked up— forgotten that this was a dragon king that you were married to..

and that you were dealing with.

“the last woman i tried to marry with could barely take anything that i gave her, you want to be next?” he warns, a small ounce of venom tracing his lips and he raised an eyebrow. “watch how you address me.”

“you know damn well thats not what i meant—“

“so what did you mean?”

“i meant if this is your first marriage, your first woman you slept with, ever.” you admit, scrambling for words to better help your case.

“yes and no.” he replies, patting your thigh. “the many women i tried to mate with could barely handle the tip.”

“okay.. so she left you because youre big down there, boo hoo—“

“no, you’re not understanding what i’m saying.” he stops you, grabbing your hands. “im your first dragon man, so..”

“us dragon men, we are bigger than the average human being. thats why we are better suited for dragon women, because their bodies can handle it.” he explained, still staring into you. “you arent ready for that kind of thing yet—“

“yeah, if you dont even attempt with me.”

he runs his hand through his hair, a nervous scoff. “the last woman who said that, her cervix was bruised and she cant have pups now, do you want that for yourself or do you not care about us?”

“katsuki, you dont have to be scared to do this with me.” you say, not even taking into account that he was a competitor, saying such words strikes a chord within him. and his chest swells with pride, him crawling onto you.

“no one is scared, woman.”

dragon men were definitely alot bigger than the average human man, you could feel it against you through the clothes that he wore, and his hands being big enough to wrap around your entire thigh.

his lips leave your neck, a whine coming from your throat and a deep grumble comes from his. he ran hot, his palms heated and sweaty from the passion and him grinding himself into your stomach.

he was needy, he hadnt been this needy in years.

“katsuki..” you mumble, hands along his sides and he kisses your lips, shutting you up.

“you think yer’ ready, little one?” he asks, his eyes blown out and dilated. he had been waiting for this, you can tell. you nod, teeth pulling at the small of your lip corner and he nods with you. his pants fall… and he wasnt lying, being nine inches long and twenty two centimeters wide. you swallow thick, looking down to the second beast he was swinging around. “you like to listen now, dont you?”

you nod, spreading your legs and he licks his lips. you watch his crawl ontop of you, kissing your collarbone and pressing his tip against your folds.

“kat—“ you say, him grunting and looking to you. “dont be nervous, okay?”

he softens a little, immediately forgetting that and hardening again. “let me know when to stop, ‘kay?” he says, pressing his tip and pushing it in.

his eyes widen, hearing you groan from the sudden stretch and he feels heat swell in his stomach. he cant fucking believe it, watching his cock slip deeper into your walls and he starts to pant. his eyes turn to slits, his canines growing sharper and wider— he was losing himself, realizing he’d finally met a woman who can take more than just the tip of his dragon cock.

“katsukiiiii..” you whine, a hand on his pelvis and he growls. “see..? im okay.”

he licks his lips, saliva pooling at the corner and then dribbling down the side of his mouth. “no fuckin way..” he growls, gripping your hips and jerking his hips. “fucking half way.. half way.” he repeats to himself, bottoming out and he claws at the sheets.

the dragon king holds your hips, raising them a little and then pulling you up, slowly pulling you back down and letting you adjust to his size. “give it to me..” he growls out, it being a echo.

“give you what..?” you ask, chest heaving and nipple hardened.

“your grace, give me the go ahead to take you.” he repeats, seeing you nod and pressing your legs to his chest. he licks at your calves, seeing the fire inside of his eyes while his cock drives into your cervix. “fuck! take all of it— take it all!” he growls, folding you up and slamming his body weight against your thighs.

slapping of wet skin, slick and creamy folds echo throughout the dragon kings bedroom—the dragon king becoming animalistic and he grabs your breasts in each hand. “katsukikatsukikatsuki!” you chant his name, eyes rolling and you cant remember how many orgasms youve been through from the dragon king.

“fuck— fucking have them, have my fucking pups!” he rumbles, nails digging into you as crescent moons into your skin and he presses his forehead to yours. “carry my kids, fucking take them— getting fucked fat with my kids— fuckk!”

he groans, pulling you down onto his cock as he stills. his cock gets pushed out, the dragon kings’ semen being in so much amounts it forces it out. he pants, ragged breaths and he falls against you, his body returning to his original state and his eyes return normal.

“katsuki?”

“mm.” he grunts, looking up to you and his face gets covered by your plush breasts.

“i dont want to say i told you so…

but i told you so.”

“do you remember when you thought i would die from having sex with you?” you say, sitting in the bathtub and bubbles cover your wet skin. “you were so nervous.” you chuckled, putting your hands on your round belly.

“yeah.. was kind of a punk for that.” he chuckles, smile lines, but yet— frown lines pulled from his chuckle. “you look gorgeous, beautiful.” he praises, kissing your cheek and putting a hand on your belly. “water too hot?”

“im carrying dragons, katsuki.” you remind, raising your hand to his cheek and caressing it. you feel his smile, and his lips press to yours. “the midwife should be here, soon.”

she was already there, both of you being enamored with each other to miss the part that was most important.

“what do you mean she’s having triplets?!”

[aspenmissing]

ᴄᴀɴᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴏᴛ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ? || 1245 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ɴᴏɴᴇ? (ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏᴏ ꜱᴜʀᴇ), ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ʜɪᴛᴛɪɴɢ?

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ɪɴ ᴘɪʟᴛᴏᴠᴇʀ’ꜱ ᴍᴏꜱᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴏᴛɪᴄ ʟᴀʙ, ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ ᴇɴꜰᴏʀᴄᴇꜱ ʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴅᴇᴘᴇɴᴅᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪꜱ ᴄᴀɴᴇ, ᴄᴏɴᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴɪɴɢ ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʏ/ɴ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴠᴏɪᴅ ʜᴇʟᴘɪɴɢ ʜɪᴍ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀ ᴛɪᴋᴛᴏᴋ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ ʜᴀᴅ ꜱᴇᴇɴ, ꜰᴏʀɢɪᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴏʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ ꜰɪɴᴅ ɪᴛ, ʙᴜᴛ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ꜱᴏ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ᴄʀᴇᴅɪᴛ ᴛʜᴇᴍ!

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ

The laboratory had seen countless innovations over the years, but none were as infamous—or as feared—as Viktor’s cane. What had started as an innocuous habit of independence had turned into a Pavlovian nightmare for Jayce and Y/N.

Jayce was the first to bear witness to Viktor's infamous cane. It happened on a seemingly ordinary day while the two were deep in brainstorming. Viktor, perched on his chair, shifted slightly as a schematic slipped from the workbench and fluttered to the floor.

Without thinking, Jayce, the ever helpful and sweet man, sprang up. “Here, let me—”

CLANK.

Jayce yelped as the cane met his shin with surprising precision. “Ow!" Jayce quickly holds his shin, rubbing it with a pout. "What was that for?”

“I do not require assistance,” Viktor said, his tone almost bored. “If I did, you would know.”

Jayce stared at him, eyes wide with a mix of confusion and indignation, as Viktor calmly picked up the schematic. “Was it really necessary to hit me that hard?”

“Quite,” Viktor replied. “You will learn.”

Months later, Y/N experienced her own initiation. Viktor was leaning against his workbench, examining a particularly intricate piece of tech when he started to wobble slightly.

Instinct kicked in. Y/N, the sweet woman she too is, darted forward, hands outstretched to steady him. “Careful, Vik—”

WHACK.

The cane struck her ankle with unerring accuracy. Y/N let out a strangled “Ow!” before hopping back. “What the hell was that for?”

Viktor straightened himself, not even sparing her a glance. “If I needed you to catch me, you’d know. I prefer to remain upright of my own accord.”

Y/N glared at him, massaging her ankle. “You’re impossible.”

“Impossible, but standing,” he quipped, not missing a beat.

Jayce, ever the optimist, hadn’t yet fully learned his lesson. On a quiet morning, Viktor was engrossed in adjusting the settings of a prototype. The delicate tool he was using slipped from his grasp and clattered to the floor.

Jayce, predictably, reacted first. “Let me get that for you—”

THWACK.

“Damn it, Viktor!” Jayce exclaimed, clutching his shin.

“I told you once already,” Viktor said without looking up, “and yet you persist. Perhaps repetition will drive the point home.”

It had been nearly a year since her first encounter with Viktor’s cane, but Y/N wasn’t one to let things slide. When Viktor staggered slightly during a late-night experiment, she moved to his side.

“Viktor, I can—”

SMACK.

Y/N cursed loudly, hopping away. She looks over to see Viktor drawing a line in his journal, besides her name. “Are you keeping a tally or something?!”

“Merely ensuring consistency,” Viktor replied, deadpan as he looks down at his journal.

Y/N: II Jayce: IIII IIII I

Over the years, Jayce and Y/N had been thoroughly conditioned by Viktor’s Cane of Discipline. At this point, Viktor only needed to lift the cane slightly, and both would flinch instinctively, muttering curses under their breaths. It became an unspoken rule between them:

Do not help Viktor unless explicitly asked.

Viktor soon realized just how well they adhered to this rule. Too well, in fact. The two would often grab at each other, a frantic race to stop the other from succumbing to old habits, both knowing the inevitable pain that would follow if they failed.

Y/N, for her part, learned quicker than Jayce. Her last attempt to help Viktor had been particularly memorable. She’d darted forward to steady him during a stumble, her reflexes swift enough to dodge the first swipe of the cane.

“Ha!” she’d crowed, turning to flash Jayce a triumphant smirk.

Her victory was short-lived. SMACK.

The cane struck squarely across her two precious cheeks, the sharp CRACK echoing through the lab. Y/N’s triumphant grin vanished in an instant, falling to her knees as her hands go straight to holding the two victims of the brutal attack. Beside her, Jayce let out an audible gasp of pain, wincing as though he had felt the blow himself. Meanwhile, Viktor straightened with deliberate calm, a smug arch lifting his brow as he tapped his cane lightly against the floor.

“Hubris,” he’d remarked calmly, tapping the cane on the floor for emphasis. "Always someone's downfall."

Y/N had to sleep on her stomach that night, grumbling into her pillow while Jayce dutifully rubbed soothing oil into her bruises, trying—and failing—not to laugh.

Recently, however, Viktor had begun taking his little “experiment” beyond the confines of the lab. His public “jokes” were a new form of torment, designed to test just how thoroughly he had conditioned his partners.

The trio decided to grab lunch at the bustling market square. The fresh air and lively chatter were a welcome change from the lab’s stifling atmosphere—or at least, that’s what Jayce told himself while limping slightly.

Viktor, walking slightly ahead, deliberately dropped his gloves.

“Oh, no,” Viktor said, feigning concern. “It seems I’ve dropped something.” He began bending down at an exaggeratedly slow pace.

Jayce and Y/N froze. They exchanged a quick, panicked look like two deer in headlights. On instinct, Y/N took half a step forward before remembering the last time she’d tried to help him. Her ankle still ached from that day. She quickly stepped back.

“Don’t worry,” Viktor said loudly, drawing the attention of passersby. “I can handle it myself.”

A passing couple stopped to watch, their judgmental eyes flicking between the struggling Viktor and his unmoving companions.

“What’s wrong with them?” one whispered loudly. “He clearly needs help!”

Jayce flushed crimson. “It’s not—we’re not—” He stammered, desperate to explain, but the words tangled in his throat.

Y/N crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. “Oh, for the love of—he’s fine. Trust me.”

Viktor straightened slowly, gloves in hand, his face the picture of innocent triumph. “Thank you for your concern,” he said, addressing the bystanders with mock gratitude. “It’s so rare to see kindness these days.”

The couple shot Jayce and Y/N a final disapproving glare before walking away, muttering under their breath.

Jayce groaned. “You know, Viktor, one of these days, someone’s going to call the Enforcers on us because they think we’re mistreating you.”

“And whose fault would that be?” Viktor replied with a sly grin. “If you two didn’t look so guilty.”

“I’m not guilty!” Jayce protested, voice cracking slightly.

Y/N rolled her eyes, nudging him in the ribs. “Keep it up, and you’re going to end up with a cane-shaped bruise on your ass trying to defend our honour.”

By the time they got back to the lab, Jayce’s nerves were thoroughly fried. He flopped onto a chair with a dramatic sigh, rubbing his face while Viktor calmly adjusted his cane, the very picture of composure.

“I don’t get why you do this,” Jayce grumbled, his voice muffled through his hands.

Viktor shrugged, his lips quirking into a faint smirk. “A bit of humor keeps life interesting, no?”

Y/N crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. “You know, one of these days, I’m going to steal that cane while you’re napping.”

“Ah,” Viktor said, the smirk growing into a wicked grin. “Then I’d simply build a new one. With enhancements. Perhaps a shock mechanism for particularly unhelpful partners.”

Jayce sat bolt upright, his face paling. “You wouldn’t.”

Viktor’s expression turned deadly serious as he leaned on the cane for emphasis. “Try me.”

Jayce turned to Y/N with pleading eyes. “Please, for the love of everything holy, don’t take his cane.”

Y/N shook her head, muttering under her breath, “Coward.”

The three of them stood there in a silent standoff, tension thickened by a mixture of mutual exasperation and the unspoken bond of affection.

It was just another perfectly chaotic day in Piltover’s most dysfunctional genius trio.

[bunny-jpeg]

Your writing is so good! I hope this request is okay.

Could I please order some chocolate cake and shortbread squares please with some juice for Carlos sainz. Maybe friendly rivals. :))))

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! there's tons of things to order from it! i really enjoy making these and i love what ya'll have prompted me! so thank you! and for this lovely anon i hope that you love this story!

chocolate cake ("do you feel that? that's what happens when i think about you all day.") + shortbread squares ("you're just mad that that my cock fits perfectly in you now. must be a blow to the ego that we're a perfect match.") + juice (cockwarming) served by carlos sainz jr (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, cockwarming, (friendly) rivals, driver's room sex, semi-public sex, secret relationship, a lot of kissing

"you drive me crazy, mi amor." carlos said as he started to unzip his driving suit, your hands were on him in return. your lips were dangerously close together.

"please." you replied, "i don't think this is the hottest you've ran." you leaned in to seal the deal as he got the driving suit off of his shoulders. his lips tasted like heaven, he even used the lip balm that you suggested.

you and carlos were like thunder and lightning on the track. he had the speed while you had the power. and together you made quite the storm. some would call you rivals, but when it was the two of you alone in the driver's room long after everyone went home, you were more like lovers.

it was late into the evening, most had gone home. and you two were supposed to be in your respected motor homes for the night. but george and charles were doing you both favors while you two had some alone time in carlos' driver's room.

"i think he went out to dinner." charles shrugged when an assistant asked where carlos went.

and george's excuse was the tried and true method, "you know how she always walks for miles when she's on the phone with your mother." followed by a laugh. you owed both of these men so much.

the door to the driver's room was locked and you slowly got out of your driving clothes and could feel carlos' gaze on your body. you knew he loved the site of you, your curves that you had. you could easily drive him wild.

"don't look like a dog, sainz. have a little respect."

he shifted in his seat on the couch and palmed through his briefs. he licked his lips. he leaned a little bit and asked, "do you see that? that's what happens when i think about you all day."

you watched him get his cock out of his briefs and relaxed further against the couch. his smile hung and you felt a stutter in your heart. you hated how he could read you inside out and backwards. damn, sainz. but yet you were enticed to come closer and eventually got onto his lap. the both of you near naked, at least your bottom halves were.

you even got yourself out of the printed socks you wore today. you were still in your sports bra while he was shirtless. you looked into his dark eyes and smiled at him, "see what happens when i think about you all day?" then smiled.

carlos palmed our breasts and pressed his face between them. he looked up at you with those doe eyes that could put deer to shame. he replied, "i can hear your heartbeat."

you combed your fingers through his hair as you rubbed your bare pussy against his cock. you swallowed, "i thought about you all day." you held his face and looked down at him, "i have to be honest. you make racing fun, my red rider." then with a little help you sank down onto his cock. your toes curled.

"shit."

"fuck."

"come here." you said as you pulled him in for anther heated kiss. you didn't ride him. due to the hour of the day (or rather night), you two could go slower. you could cockwarm him while your lips got familiar with his. you held his face once more and he wrapped his arms around you tightly. he gazed up at you almost with love and you smiled before you kissed once more.

you hated to admit it but, you liked cockwarming him. and if you could've been in the motor home together tonight without having to worry about being too loud for your teammates, you would've happily had the comfort of a shared bed.

at least there was the off-season. you had, without the prying eyes of the press, moved some of your belongings to his home. it was a spare lip gloss here, your spare retainer, there were a few more mercedes shirts in the closet. even a stuffed animal that carlos got you after you won your second gran prix (winning twice meant it wasn't a fluke).

"you feel good against me." he said with a smile.

"oh shut up, sainz." you arched your back a little bit as his cock nudged against one of your sweet spots and it made you feel hot all over.

he chuckled, warmth in his voice as he said, "you're just mad that that my cock fits perfectly in you now. must be a blow to the ego that we're a perfect match."

you looked down at him and held onto his face a little tighter, "oh, i've seen your cock compared to some of the others. i think that maybe danny or max will suit me just fine." you moved your hips a little and watched carlos melt a little, "if i want something that doesn't bruise my cervix, maybe your teammate charles will a work.. or maybe my own teammate."

carlos made a face, "you better not be running off into george's arms. if you know what's good for you." then shuddered when you started to move a little more. he groaned against you. he knew that you'd have to cockwarm him again and sometime soon.

you two kissed while you continued to move against him. he held onto you tightly while you rode his cock. the kisses became messier the more you moved against him. it was hot and left a fire in your gut.

you both didn't last long, carlos' dirty words in your mouth as you rode him on the couch. he said to you, "next time. next time i'm keeping you on me all night. sleep together like that. i want to wake up and feel you." he said as he groped your breasts. you could feel your heartbeat in your chest as you reached your climax.

your toes curled once more as you panted heavily. you pulled him into another hot kiss. you whimpered into the kiss while he held onto you, meeting you staggered pace. he groaned into the kiss as he finished inside of you.

you both slowed down and you rested against him for a moment as you tried to catch your breath. he kissed the side of your head with love. you held onto his shoulders and composed yourself.

"next time, sainz." you said as you patted his chest, "we're doing this all night. and it'll be after i beat you on the track." that rival streak was coming out of you as you gazed at him.

he chuckled and looked at you, "sure, mi amor. now why don't we get dressed before someone tries to find us. our lie can't work forever." then kissed up your chest.

"yeah, george and charles have done enough for us tonight." you knew you'd get an earful from your teammate, but at that moment when you watched carlos redress. it was worth it. <3

[y2kstarr]

— ᥫ᭡ streets . . . chris sturniolo

where . . . After attending a frat party at your college, you find your ex, Chris, there, his hands all over some random girl. You try to hold yourself back, but you just can't help but claim back what's rightfully yours.

contains . . . smut, college au, toxic!ex!chris, possessive!reader, cheating (not on reader, but i still don't condone!), oral (m!receiving), degrading, sight praising

credits to @delilahsturniolo for the marathon concept

HOT PINK WRITING MARATHON . . . fic #9

The bass thumped so hard it felt like it was pulsing through your chest, rattling your ribs in time with the heartbeat of the party. The frat house was packed — hot, humid, and chaotic — the scent of spilt beer, cologne, and cheap perfume swirling under the hazy, colored lights.

Bodies were everywhere: dancing, shouting, pushing past each other with red Solo cups sloshing dangerously in hand. Your eyes weren’t really on any of it, though.

They were locked on him.

Chris Sturniolo, leaning against the kitchen counter like the universe owed him something — all smug grin and lazy posture.

A girl was pressed up against him, dark hair, tall, giggling as his hand traced slow, familiar paths over her waist, his lips dragging dangerously close to hers before he kissed her, just barely. Like a tease.

You remembered that kiss. You remembered the way he used to look at you with that same smirk. Like he knew he had you, no matter how hard you tried to act like he didn’t.

And maybe he did.

A flare of heat rushed through your stomach. Jealousy. Rage. Possession. Whatever it was, it felt like a match striking inside your chest. You were across the room before you could stop yourself, eyes fixed on them, your drink forgotten at some sticky corner table.

She peeled away from him after a few more minutes, glancing over her shoulder with a lazy smile before disappearing into the crowd. And just like that, he was alone. Sipping from his cup. Like nothing had happened.

You didn’t hesitate.

“Really?” you snapped, stepping in front of him, arms crossed. “Sloppy second-year? That’s your type now?”

Chris barely glanced at you, then grinned slowly. That toxic, maddening grin. “Well, well. Look what the party dragged in.”

“I saw you, Chris. All over her like you didn’t even wait a week.”

“I didn’t,” he replied, shameless, cocky. “You walked out. What’d you expect me to do? Mourn?”

Your jaw clenched. You hated the way his voice slid like honey and poison all at once — lazy, cruel, irresistible. “You know damn well no one touches you the way I did.”

“Oh?” He tilted his head, eyes roaming over you, a dangerous glint in them now. “That sounds a lot like jealousy, ma.”

“I’m not jealous.” A lie. And you both knew it.

He laughed under his breath, stepping a little closer. “No? Then why are you still talking to me? Why do you look like you’re about to claw that girl’s eyes out?”

God, You hated him. And you hated yourself for the way your heart still jumped when he got close. For the way your body remembered everything, even when your brain screamed at you to forget.

“I’m just saying,” you hissed, leaning in, your voice low, possessive, “I’ve been trying to move on... But no one is you." you glanced down, as if now embarrassed by saying your feelings out loud. "No one makes me feel like you do, and I hate it. I hate you.”

“You hate me,” he repeated, like the words amused him. “And yet here you are.”

“I’m obsessed with you, and I hate it.” You finally said, eyes meeting his as the words practically free fell from your lips.

That knocked the smirk off his face — just for a second. But then he recovered, and his eyes darkened, half-lidded and knowing.

“Say that again,” he murmured, stepping even closer now. His breath smelled like alcohol and bad decisions. “Say it slower.”

“I’m obsessed with you,” you repeated, tone sharp like a knife. “I think... I think about you all the time. I can’t stop. And the second I saw you with her—” Your voice cut, swallowed by the music. “I wanted to burn this place down.”

Chris let out a low whistle. “Damn. You’re insane, ma.”

You smirked. “Only for you.”

He set his drink down behind him and without another word, you grabbed his hand and dragged him away from the counter. You weaved through the chaos — the flashing lights, the bodies, the thud of bass-heavy music — until you found a vacant bathroom.

You pushed him inside.

He hit the wall with a soft thud, laughing like this was all just another game you were playing — and maybe it was. Maybe that was all the two of you were. Fire and Fire. Always burning, never learning.

You grabbed his face and kissed him hard, like you needed to erase the taste of that other girl from his mouth. He groaned low in his throat, grabbing your waist, pulling you closer.

“You’re insane,” he whispered again between kisses, lips trailing down your jaw. “Like… clinically obsessed.”

“I thought we already established that.”

He chuckled. “And you’re still mad.”

“I’m always mad,” you growled. “Because I want you to myself.”

He grinned against your skin. “You always did like marking what’s yours.”

That was it. The tension broke like glass underfoot. His hands were on your hips, under your shirt, in your hair. Clothes shifted and mouths didn’t separate for more than a breath. It was messy, heated, frantic — the air thick with resentment, history, and lust. The kind that came from knowing someone too well, too deeply. From never really getting over them.

Chris’s mouth was on yours again, hot and urgent, like he’d been waiting for this since the day you stormed out of his apartment and slammed the door behind you. His fingers dug into your hips like he was claiming you all over again, pulling you so close the echoing music and drunken shouting outside the bathroom faded beneath the sound of your breathing and the squeak of your back hitting the sink.

The flickering bathroom light stuttered overhead, casting harsh shadows on the tiles and catching the sharp line of his jaw, the half-lidded, cocky look in his eyes that made your blood boil and your stomach twist. You hated how effortlessly he got under your skin.

"You miss this," he murmured, voice lazy but laced with fire, lips brushing the skin just beneath your ear as he tugged up your shirt, pulling it up and over your head. "You miss me."

"Shut up," you hissed against his lips, even as your hands yanked up the hem of his hoodie, feeling as he helped take it off for you. "You think I’m here because I like your personality?"

"You’re here because you can’t help yourself," he whispered against your neck. "Because no one else ruins you the way I do."

You swallowed a curse as his teeth grazed your jaw. He was right, and he knew it. That smug, infuriating smirk was plastered across his face as his hands still roamed your sides with a hungry confidence, letting you take what you wanted — knowing you would.

"You're still mine, Chris," you breathed, stepping between his legs, your glare sharp, your voice even sharper. “Don’t think for a second she had even half of what I give you.”

He tilted his head, that smirk never leaving. “Then come show me, baby. Show me what she didn’t.”

It was a challenge — and you accepted without hesitation, kissing him like it meant something more than it should. His grip tightened on your thighs, pulling you against him, your hips grinding slow, steady, heated, huffs of moans and groans already leaving your lips.

His voice, slick and sinful, ghosted against your lips. “You don’t even care if someone walks in, do you? You just need to remind me I’m yours. Isn’t that right?”

You didn’t deny it.

Because it was true.

You didn’t want him back. Not really.

You just needed to own him again — one more time.

Chris groaned as you rolled your hips just right, the bulge in her jeans hardening against your thigh. You couldn't help the way your hands almost frantically slid down to work at his button and zipper, pulling a chuckle out of him as you tugged them down to show his boxers.

You didn't waste another second before getting onto your knees before him.

You could feel the heat radiating off his body, the musky scent of his arousal filling your nostrils as you leaned in close. Your fingers trembled slightly as you wrapped them around the thick, pulsing shaft that strained against the confines of his boxers.

With a soft breath, you hooked your fingers into the waistband and tugged his underwear down, allowing his impressive length to spring free. It bobbed before your face, the swollen, flushed head already glistening with precum, your eyes trained on it before looking up at Chris.

Maintaining eye contact with him, you flicked your tongue out to lap at the pearly bead, savoring the salty-sweet taste of his excitement. Chris's breath hitched, his lips parting as he let out a guttural groan.

"Fuck, your tongue..." he rasped, one hand coming down to tangle in your hair, urging you closer.

Emboldened by his reaction, you wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, swirling your tongue around it as you took him deeper into your mouth. The weight of him on your tongue, each vein and ridge filling your mind with memories of unforgettable nights with him.

You could feel him growing harder by the second, his cock pulsing and twitching as you took him inch by inch into the warm, slick haven of your mouth. Your eyes flickered up at him as you took him as much as you could, the tip of his cock pressing against the back of your throat.

"S–Shit, baby, you suck cock way better than her," Chris grunted, referring to the girl you'd seen with him earlier, his fingers tightening their grip in your hair. "She's never— ungh— taken me this deep before. Fuck, your mouth is incredible."

His words, laced with pleasure and surprise, only fueled your determination to make this experience unforgettable for him. You relaxed your throat, taking him even deeper until your nose pressed against the coarse hair at the base of his shaft.

Chris let out a strangled moan, his hips bucking forward slightly as he fought the urge to thrust into your mouth. "Holy hell, all the way— ahhh— take it all, baby. Fuck, you look so good with your lips stretched around my dick."

You held him there, deep in your throat, your muscles fluttering around his throbbing length as you gazed up at him with lust-filled eyes, before you started bobbing your head. The bathroom filled with the obscene sounds of your slurping and his groans, the pulsing music outside fading into the background.

In that moment, nothing existed but the taste of him, the scent of his skin, the power you held as you brought him to the edge of ecstasy, his cock pulsing and twitching urgently against your tongue.

You could feel the heat of his skin, the power of his arousal, the desperation in his touch as his fingers twisted almost painfully in your hair.

"Ma, fuck... if you keep sucking me like that, 'm not gonna last much longer," Chris panted, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. "Your mouth is so— so fucking good. Way better than..."

He trailed off, not wanting to compare you to his girlfriend any further. Instead, he focused on the sensation of your lips gliding along his shaft, your tongue swirling and flicking in ways that made his eyes roll back and his jaw clench.

You could taste the saltiness of his sweat, the muskiness of his arousal, the unique flavor that was distinctly him. It spurred you on, urged you to take him deeper, to suck harder, to wring every last drop of pleasure from his throbbing cock.

"Baby, I'm gonna— fuck— 'M gonna cum," Chris grunted, his grip on your hair tightening to the point of pain. "Swallow it, baby. Take it all, every last fucking drop."

With a strangled cry, his hips jerked forward, burying his cock deep in your throat as he began to pulse and throb, spilling his hot seed directly down your throat.

You felt the first hot, thick spurts of his release hitting the back of your throat, the sensation making your own body shudder with a mix of satisfaction and arousal. Chris's grip on your hair tightened even further as he held you in place, his hips twitching and jerking with each wave of his intense orgasm.

"F–fuuck—" Chris groaned as he came down from his high, panting as his body leaned back against the wall, looking down at you with glossy eyes, a smirk on his lips.

He slowly withdrew his softening cock from your mouth, a strand of saliva and semen connecting your lips to his glistening tip, pulling a groan from his lips before he tucked himself back into his jeans, watching as you stood and wiped your mouth.

"So? Better than your little girl toy?" You teased as you leaned in to kiss him, moaning softly against his lips as his hand gripped your hip once more, deepening the kiss just a bit before pulling back to whisper against your lips.

"So much fucking better, ma."

☆ : so sorry this isn't proofread yet- absolutely LOVED writing this concept– don't know if it turned out good tho 😭 Hope you guys enjoy tho!!

taglist 🏷️

[ldrfanatic]

fix my weathervane

soft!theo nott x fem!hufflepuff!reader

i know this is real short yall i'm sorry.

finally the long awaited part two of soft theo

part one

song: blue banisters by lana del rey

the air in hogsmeade felt different that afternoon—softer, lighter, as if the world around him was holding its breath, waiting. it was the kind of day that made the castle seem miles away, and the hustle and bustle of students, their laughter filling the street. but the world had narrowed to just you, theo, and the feeling of your warm hand in his as the two of you walked side by side.

theo had waited a long, long time for this moment. and he supposed there was a possibility that he might begrudgingly owe mattheo a thank you. afterall, if he hadn't forced him to speak to you after potions last week, he never would have had the courage himself to ask you out.

the truth was, despite the many rumors of theo's love life that floated around the halls of hogwarts like the feathers of an owl, theodore nott was quite admittedly a complete fool when it came to women. his father had never been too accommodating growing up, and with the stark absence of his mother from age eight, he didn't exactly have too many role models to teach him how to treat a woman right.

even for this particular date, much of what he had picked up came from the dozens of books that he'd scoured in the last 24 hours hoping desperately that anything might give him even the tiniest bit of insight into how to get a girl to swoon.

mattheo had offered to teach him some of the skills that he supposedly used to acquire his own relationship with daphne, which inherently seemed like a bad idea given that daphne and mattheo had their own entire little brand of crazy going.

still, the streams of sunlight seemed to glow on your skin and frame your sundress-clad body in a way that theo could only describe as absolutely magical. in that moment, he was nearly certain that if he didn't say something to you, he would certainly explode.

"b-bellissima."

your head snapped towards his, tilted in confusion and his mouth dried almost instantly. shit. why was the first thing he managed to say this entire time in whole separate language? theo licked his lips, looking up into your eyes with a look he hoped conveyed everything he couldn't speak.

"beautiful," theo gestured vaguely to your dress which you had masterfully paired with your favorite yellow-flower sneakers. casual was truly the only option when it came to hogsmeade fashion, yet still, he knew that he made the right decision as soon as your white converse came into view. "you look beautiful."

you nodded shyly with what theo decided right then and there was the most stunning smile any human could possibly hope to possess.

"do you want to go to the bookstore?"

theo's heart palpitated in his chest. merlin, was this girl even real? his favorite thing to shop for at one of his favorite places on earth with his favorite girl? yes, absolutely. he tried to hide his excitement as he nearly jumped out of his shoes with anticipation.

by the time you'd finished at the bookstore, the sun made it's way into a high noon position, noting to both of you that it was time for lunch.

you settled in across from each other into a quiet corner table at madame puddifoot's, the soft clinking of teacups and murmured conversations settling overtop of you like a warm blanket. theo hoped desperately you didn't pay too much mind to the way he kept glancing at you over the rim of his teacup. his heart was still pounding from the way your fingers brushed against each other's when you both reached for the same book in tomes and scrolls.

"i didn't think anyone else like ancient spells of subtlety." the soft grin you offered him as you stirred sugar into your tea nearly knocked him clear out of his chair.

"i didn't think anyone else knew it existed." his reply shockingly came out rather smoothly. for the first time all day, his voice didn't shake.

exchanged smiles. a shared look. the moment felt more remarkably serene than the sun rising over the black lake.

theo reached for the courage that he hoped was buried somewhere beneath his ribs. "i, um." it took every cell of his being to continue. "i really enjoy this. being like this with you."

your face lit up so completely that theo nearly felt it necessary to reach into his chest and rip it if nothing more than to stop the way that it rapidly thumped against his ribcage.

"so," theo looked down at the menu in front of him. "how do you feel about.... pumpkin pasties for lunch? or should we be proper and get actual food?"

your giggle was better than music. "are you asking me if i want dessert before lunch?"

"no," theo replied, teasingly indignant. "i'm asking if we can break all social norms and live fully."

you feigned a gasp, bringing your hand up to your chest teasingly. "how very reckless of you, mr. nott. what would your father say?"

theo smirked, feeling more himself as the corners of his mouth pulled up mischievously. "he'd say i'm being irresponsible. but he'd also be very wrong."

his hand reached out of it's own accord, brushing a splash of tea from your cheek. "because this feels very, very right."

[jaybirbie]

The first time she remembers seeing him, is when she is guiding the soul of Dr. Jazzmine Fenton. The world renowned author and psychologist.

Jazz had lived a long life, it only been a few days after her 87th birthday. She had passed gently in her sleep.

Death of the Endless was used to the people she guided having some questions or confusion.

Jazz was a rare one. She was quiet. Just giving Death an understanding nod and her arm.

At the end of their journey, before Jazz entered the Sunless lands. She stopped.

Turning to lock eyes with Death, the woman spoke.

"HELP HIM".

There was weight behind her words, this wasn't a request.

Before Death could answer, Jazz had turned and entered the sunless lands.

It was the heavy weight of the womans words that had Death returning to where she had collected the soul of Jazzmine Fenton.

There she met him.

Sitting next to the cooling body, holding her hand as tears silently ran down his cheeks.

He couldn't be more than 14. His sickly pale skin and fluffy black hair reminded her fondly of her brother.

To her surprise, the boy turned to look at her. Could see her.

The heavy sharp look behind his eyes reminded her of Dream as well.

"She's gone". He spoke quietly.

It wasn't a question, she nodded anyway.

He looked back at the body, gently placing the hand he held back on the bed. Standing up, he kissed her forehead and stepped away.

"Can you take me too?" Barely a whisper.

Her confusion continued. She shook her head. " it's not your time." She replied gently, laying a hand on his shoulder only to startle back as she felt his soul. He was dead.

The surprise must have shown on her face as the boy let out a defeated sigh. As more tears filled his eyes.

"Then when, it's been decades."

Gathering herself, she put both her hands back on his shoulders, looking down at the dead child. She didn't understand herself. The boy was one of hers, yet she hadn't given him her gift, and she couldn't guide him. There was no path for him to be guided down.

Softly she rubbed the boys shoulders and gently smiled before replying.

" I don't know," she paused, "but we'll figure it out".

She took the boys hand as she led him away from the room.

Time to cash in on the favour Dream owed her. She had a feeling her brother and his immortal lover will have a positive affect on the sad young boy, while she figures out why the boy is stuck.

Part 1??

[bluesidez]

GymRat!Miguel Part 7

content warning: mentions of blood, some violence, FINALLY 18+ so MDNI, dry humping 😁, like a smidge of fluff, some Spanish (as always, correct me if I'm wrong)

word count: 2.3k (we're back with some sense)

Prev | Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

Gabriel jumped as the grand doors slammed closed.

The room was quiet minus Kron groaning on the floor.

“I’m going to kill him!” he shouts, hand trying to cover his bloodied nose.

“If you try, you’ll be disowned,” Tyler frowned down at him. Gabriel had never seen him without a smile on his face. It was scary yet familiar. It was times like this that Gabriel was reminded that he and Miguel were different.

“Dad, are you fucking serious? He just assaulted me!” Kron cried in disbelief as Nancy tried her best to clean his face.

“It was nothing you didn’t deserve. Surely, you’re grateful that I pulled him away.”

“Tyler. Our son is hurt! And bleeding out on my expensive carpet,” Nancy bit back, snapping at a butler to bring her a health kit.

“My other son is also hurt,” Tyler replies with his voice even, looking at Nancy and Kron as if they’ve lost it.

Gabriel could see George tense up at Tyler’s acknowledgement of Miguel as his.

“All this time and effort spent on putting this whole thing together and for what? What did I gain?” Tyler said lowly as he took his glasses off.

“I’ve spent two decades raising you and the older you’ve gotten, the more you have disappointed me. Twenty years spending dollar after dollar on your schooling and wellbeing. Ten years of watching you grow. Ten more years of watching you drift and become someone I’m not sure I can even call mine. What happened to my boy? What have you done with him?”

Gabriel was outwardly wary of what would happen next. Internally though? He was bullet-pointing every dig.

His name wasn’t Gossip Gabriel for nothing.

He watched as Kron shook on the floor. A simple hangnail could probably make him breakdown.

“Almost two decades I’ve watched from the sidelines as my son grew up without me. I watched as another man took my place. I watched as my careless actions were formed into a son that I could not connect to, talk to, or even hold. So please, forgive me if the few times, no, the one time I have the opportunity to build that connection, I am furious that it is ruined by my eldest son and his entitlement.”

“Entitlement!? What entitlement? Every time I say something it’s wrong, but Miguel is all of a sudden this perfect son that you wish you had. I wasn’t the one that ran that girl away.”

“Watch it, boy,” Conchata hisses.

“No, you watch it!” Nancy snapped back.

“Silence!” Tyler’s voice boomed throughout the house. “What all of you fail to realize is that the special guests have been iced out of my home! Kron, I may not have been there for you at every moment, but I have never taught you to disrespect women like you’ve done tonight. You owe several apologies.”

“You cheated on mom to have a bastard baby.”

Gabriel only blinks as Tyler moves to hit Kron in the mouth. Just as fast as Miguel.

“And what your mother fails to tell you is that she cheated first. I am not perfect, but neither was she.”

“Escandaloso,” Gabriel leans over to whisper to Dana.

“It would be best for us to talk after you’ve gone to the hospital. Make haste, lest you make me angry, son,” Tyler says with venom-coated words.

Nancy, with help from one of the butlers, scrambled to get Kron up and out of the door.

Tyler took a deep breath and put his glasses back on. He turned to Conchata as started to unbutton his cufflinks.

“Conchata,” he said. “Level with me, what did you really not like about Miguel’s girlfriend tonight? I know you too well and her weight is not the problem. She’s beautiful, intelligent, talented, and we can both see that Miguel loves her.”

It was Conchata’s turn to look shocked. She looked around to everyone staring at her, waiting for a proper answer.

She stuttered trying to get her sentences out, “Why am I being held to the fire right now?”

“Ma, I’m not sure if you remember, but you quite literally criticized her body and expression,” Gabriel said. He was never afraid to step up to her when it came to Miguel, he just had to gauge how far he could go.

“I didn’t intend to do that,” Conchata starts.

“Honey, you stopped her from eating her food,” George chides. “It doesn’t get any worse than that.”

Conchata was silent as she sat back down, staring at the centerpiece, “I just-”

“No puedo creer que fueras tan grosera con ella, Conchata. Miguelito is right. You should be ashamed,” Gabriel’s abuela said. (I can’t believe you were so rude to her, Conchata.)

She got up and came to Conchata’s side, “You have fussed at him all his life. Nothing he did was ever good enough for you. You can not choose now to try and control him.”

“Tyler, can you have someone take me back home? Oh! And pack me one of those yummy cherries too,” she said as she gave him a hug and a pat on the cheek. She then proceeded to give everyone a goodbye but her daughter.

“I truly apologize for this hectic night,” Tyler announced to the room. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go see how I can make this up to Miguel. You all can use my home however you need.”

Gabriel cleared his throat now that he was left in a room with his parents and Dana, “Well. Did you guys like the meal?”

“I thought the filet mignon was fabulous,” Dana replied.

They leaned together and giggled.

Gabriel had a lot to spill to Miguel.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

You wake up unbelievably warm, the bed sheets piled on top of you. You lift your head from the thick pillow, and waited as the AC hit your face.

Sun was coming in through the cracks of the drapes. It was all quiet except for the light snore coming from Miguel’s side of the bed.

You turn to him and he’s out from under the covers, bare muscly back to the world. You swallow around nothing as you watch the ripples of his muscles move with his breath.

Who knew you were going to wake up to this delicious sight?

You move quietly, shuffling to the bathroom to pee and freshen up. You felt miles better than you did last night. You felt even better as the memories come back to you. Your boyfriend really took a stand for you.

When you walk out the bathroom, you don’t expect Miguel to be sitting up on the edge of the bed, bed head and sleepy eyes.

“Are you up? I didn’t mean to wake you,” you say, voice light and soft.

“I moved over and you weren’t there,” Miguel yawned. “Couldn’t go back to sleep ‘till I found out where you went.”

You shuffle to his side of the bad, “Just went to the bathroom.”

He opened his legs and pulled you in. He laid his head on your chest, kissing the skin through the fabric as placed his hands on your ass.

“G’morning,” he said, voice scratchy.

“Morning to you too,” you said while scratching his head.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, peering up at you.

You give him a small smile, “I’m feeling better.”

“Yeah?”

You nod your head, bringing your hands to the nape of his neck. You twirl your finger is his hair absentmindedly.

He puckers his lips, waiting expectantly. You giggle and lean down pecking his lips.

GymRat!Miguel who hurries and brushes his teeth, wanting to continue this mood. You were rocking one of his shirts and some panties. He still wanted to see if the offer from last night was still up.

GymRat!Miguel who crowds your space on the bed, hovering over you as he kisses your lips. He’s feeling particularly ravenous and all he wants is you. Your grip on his shoulders becomes tighter as he slots his tongue in your mouth.

GymRat!Miguel who is definitely a virgin. Sure, he spent his free time researching how to make you feel good. He even shyly asked Peter for advice. It still doesn’t negate the fact that he has put none of these things to use.

He pauses as things start to get even more heated, sharing this news with you. You’re a little shocked but you promise him it’s fine to take it slow. You have never done penetrative sex with anyone either. Feeling more relaxed, he dives right back in.

GymRat!Miguel who has you grinding above him. Your clothed sex slides against his, two layers of cotton separating you both. You’re whining against mouth as he moves your hips. He’s humming at every noise you make.

As much as he wants to go further, he has a need to fulfill your desire first.

Plus, he was dumb enough not to bring a condom.

He opens his mouth to take a nipple in through your sweater. It’s thick, but he sucks hard enough to get the job done. He watches as you tilt your head back and moan loader, hips stuttering.

Miguel watches you in awe. He’s never seen you like this before. So needy for him. It was a contrast to how you usually let him take, take, take.

He moves quick to lay you on top of him, finally getting his dream of you over him.

“Miguel?” you ask, wary of your weight.

“Nuh uh, baby keep going. Don’t stop,” Miguel says, swerving your hip along his.

You fall down from a sharp buck of Miguel’s hips, moaning from the friction and holding your hands against the headboard.

Miguel was in heaven watching you roll your hips faster and faster.

GymRat!Miguel who flips you over as soon as you come. He is grinding better against as you lay on your back. Your tits ate bouncing under his sweater with every jerk. He wanted to take it off, but you were still a bit self-conscious.

For now, it was fine because you looked so good in his clothes, nipples hard and ready just for him to devour. In the future, he hoped to have you see how beautiful you are in his eyes.

You’re sensitive, thighs tightening around his waist. He softly moves one of them, gaining better access for his bulge to slide against your clothed clit.

“Miguel!” you cry, voice high.

“Give me another one, come on,” he says, mouth moving to your ear. “You’re doing so good. Just need one more.”

He feels you nod your head, arms wrapping around his neck.

You yell his name as you come again, thighs shaking.

GymRat!Miguel who comes through his underwear on top of you. He pulls your sweater up a tad to watch some liquid pool on your stomach.

“Fuck,” he heaves, smearing it with his thumb. You were fluttering against him softly.

You were laid out under him coming down from your high. Your breaths were slowing down and you were looking at him, blissed out.

This was better than his dream.

He rubbed up and down your bare thighs, watching as they twitched when he grazed your inner thighs. He walked his fingers down to your panties, running his knuckles over your mound. The fabric was wet, evidence of what you two just did.

He starts to pull the fabric tight, watching as your folds imprint through the cotton.

What a pretty sight. Your body so open with his cum on your smooth skin.

Mine. All mine.

He’s about to press against your clit again until you say something.

“Huh?” Miguel asks, in a daze.

“I asked if you could go get a wet towel,” you say.

“Shit. I’m so sorry, baby,” he says, frantic movements as he hobbled out of the bed. He was acting like an idiot, gawking at you instead of talking.

GymRat!Miguel who realizes that he put you both in a sticky situation as he wipes your stomach off.

“It’s fine. ‘Was hot,” you whisper, completely flushed.

“Yeah? You liked it?” Miguel asked, giddy.

You nod your head, “You made me feel really good, so yes, I did like it.”

“Is that so?” Miguel mumbles, leaning close to your face. “Might have to do more next time.”

“More? Like what?”

“Like finally getting you to sit on my face,” he says in your ear. He finally got you to put your weight on him, all he needed was that final push.

“Oh my god,” you drone, covering your face dramatically.

“What? Baby, it’ll be so fun! I promise!”

GymRat!Miguel who finally checks his phone while you both wait on room service.

Abuela 💕:

“Miguelito!”

“Call me when you can!”

“dile a mi muñeca que mi casa es su casa!” (tell my doll that my home is her home)

“And I don’t want any new grandbabies so soon so control yourself”

Pa:

“Miguel I hope you can forgive your mother”

“She needs some time”

“I’ll be sure to talk to her”

“It was also lovely to meet your girlfriend”

“I’m proud of you mijo”

Gabri 🤏🏽🤡:

“Bro”

“You missed SO MUCH!”

“BDHDHDHDJEBE”

“I wish I could have streamed it”

“Tyler SWUNG KRON’S BODY TO THE SIDE….”

“Ok no but fr”

“It’s def confirmed that you’re Tyler’s favorite 🤷🏽‍♂️”

“Kron got socked in the mouth by Tyler”

“That’s def where you get your punches from ngl”

“OMG”

“Did you know that Nancy cheated on Tyler first?”

“Crazy. Ik. You don’t have to say anything”

“Anyway”

“Tell my girl I said gn 😁 her breakfast in bed will be waiting on her”

Dana:

“Your dad’s kinda hot”

“Tyler not George”

“But you know who’s hotter?”

“Your gf”

“Give her my number. Plz and ty”

Dad….Tyler:

“Son I sincerely apologize for this terrible evening.”

“Kron will be reprimanded. No need to worry about that. You only taught him a valuable lesson in reality.”

“If I can, may I make it up to you?”

“I added a few more days to the hotel.”

“And my doors are, of course, always open to you.”

“Please reach out to me soon.”

Ma:

“Miguel please come home”

“I need to talk to you”

divider by: @plutism + @benkeibear 🩵

a/n: AHHH! If you're reading this, then this (hopefully) means that I have finished and turned in my Senior Thesis 🥺. As a gift, please tell me you how you feel. You guys have been so kind to me on here, so I hope you enjoy today's chapter. There are more great things coming soon!

taglist: @ghost-lantern @miguelhugger2099 @slushycoookie @emelie-s-h @lake-lili

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